Titans Newlywed
by Platanos2.0
Summary: Robin [Nightwing Richard Grayson] is married and ready for the sweet life with a beautiful wife and job as CEO of Wayne Co. Right? Hell no. Instead he has to deal with friends who won't grow up, annoying coworkers, and...? [Robin x wife centric]


Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans.

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A/N: After watching another hilarious episode of MTV's the Newlyweds, I decided to write a fanfic about Robin or Nightwing in this case, and his life as a Newlywed. Of course, this idea has been stewing in my mind for quite some time, because if you think about it, Robin's marriage if all elements were put in place, would be an interesting story, no?

We all know thatRobin is not the most responsible of all people, thoughhe is hard-headed, competitive and fierce, he's still acrime fighter and crime fighters tend to have very oddly arranged priorities. So I decided to write this: The Newlyweds and titled it thusly on the impression that I was the only one with such an idea...at least for a while.

Now this first episode came to me after watching the Incredibles, which was the BEST movie I've seen in a LONG time. Go watch it or buy the DVD and sit home with a couple friends, popcorn and soda--certainly cost less--you won't be disappointed. So I was sitting there watching Bob Parr (Mr. Incredible) do some last minute "cleaning up" before he went to his wedding with Elastigirl who byfar is BEST female superhero, I've seen in a long time. Needless to say, hegot there just in the nick of time a.k.a almost late.It was then that the idea struck me! Hey, if Robin were to get married, he'd do the exact same thing as Mr. Incredible! I thought. So for this first chapter, the idea belongs to the Incredibles. Please don't sue me.

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Teen Titans: Newlyweds 

Doctor Mentally Deranged.(Dr. M.D)

Episode One: The Wedding

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It had been a long time since the residents of Gotham had attended a party has extravagant and breathtaking as the Grayson wedding reception. Indeed, since the death of beloved billionaire, Bruce Wayne, the dark city had fallen into an even more dismal slump as crime slowed to a dull trickle and the realization without handsome playboy billionaires made life absolutely tedious. The monotony of things was simply unbearable. Even the criminals seemed to recognize the chalky taste of ennui in the atmosphere and while a few brave souls continued to do what they did not do best, many took the lapse in excitement as sign to hang up the gun and robber's mask and to silently mourn the loss of a man who's pockets seemed endless. 

So when word got around that young Bruce Wayne's enigmatic protégée, Richard Grayson was to be wed, Gotham was a buzz. Florists and designers from north Gotham to south Gotham teetered on the edge of madness as they waited impatiently from the young woman who had captured the boy's heart to call and arrange for flowers and wedding gowns. Meanwhile, the paparazzi were baffled and infuriated. How? How? How? They demanded, storming about in wild huffs, phoning cousins millions of miles away. They all wanted to know the same thing. How in the hell had Wayne's son gotten engaged without their knowledge? How? While the newspapers and magazines pondered over such a thing, simple, quiet folk merely nodded, commenting, "it's about high time that Grayson feller' settled down with a young lass that would set him straight." Still yet, the big question on everyone's mind was: Who was she? Who was the mysterious maiden that had captured the heart of playboy Bruce Wayne's son? And more importantly, how in the world had this woman gotten such a "rowdy" individual to settle down? Wasn't it said that sons were destined to walk in their father's shoes and ultimately make their own mistakes? So why then wasn't Richard Grayson lollygagging about clubs with five women on his arms and bragging about his fame and worth. Why? And so the rumors began. Names came up, out of nowhere and out of the blue.

Barbara Gordon! Some folk cheered, but Mr. Gordon was soon able to squelch that tittle-tattle. Apparently, the young missus was in Kenya on an expedition and from what he had last heard, his daughter was engaged to nothing but her work.

Cecil Lumiere, the young Parisian supermodel Grayson had gotten involved with not too long ago others cried, but the French government and Madame Lumiere was about to solve that in a quicky, although she did it reluctantly and it pained her. Obviously, the petite flower was engaged to a Lorraine St. James of Derbyshire and they were to be wed the following year. So unless, Grayson was leading a double life as a British nano-technology professor that just couldn't be right!

And still others insisted Natalie Raymond: the quaint artist from Milan was the young billionaire's bride-to-be. Except that would not have worked out since Ms. Raymond was currently tending to her sick mother in a small village in Iceland and wouldn't here word of leaving her mother, let alone getting married.

So here they were, the citizens of Gotham, sulking and pondering day and night over this dilemma until at last news came from Grayson's PR. Apparently, the young master was in Jump City on supposed "business," but after a review with Jump City's mayor, that "business" turned out to be lunch dates with a dashing young missus with vibrant character and breathtaking looks. Indeed, the young master was working hard—hard at courting an alien beauty.

And there was the handful that believed young master Grayson had snagged him a "super fiancée," as some preferred to refer to her. Many believed that Grayson had gotten involved with the Justice League and had settled himself into a nice little relationship with either Wonder girl or a redheaded alien, the citizens of Jump called Starfire. Of course, after the last three propositions had been shot down, people eagerly accepted this as the truth and who wouldn't? It was a match made in heaven. The handsome rich boy and the beautiful alien, who would dare go against such a suggestion?

Well, no matter what the assumptions or declarations no one knew whom Richard Grayson was to marry. All that mattered was that the young master had finally decided to settle down, for he deserved it. After Bruce Wayne's tragic death, the handsome man had grown more reclusive as he arranged his mentor's funeral and company transfers. All in all, Richard Grayson was a catch, and whoever had gotten him was lucky. With jet-black hair that bristled his shoulders, captivating smile, boyish good looks, money, charisma and grace, who wouldn't want to be married to him?

Victor Stone was a lucky man.

He was dating the most beautiful woman in the world, had a well-paying and successful job at Wayne Tech.'s NASA affiliates and on top of that he was standing by as best man to his best friend's wedding. He adjusted his black bow tie, all the while admiring his smooth head and dashing good looks. He grinned, clutched his lapel and gave his reflection a 'thumbs up.'

"Mmm, yeah…looking good, Cyborg, looking fine! Boo ya!"

Yes, he was a very lucky man. No man could be luckier than him.

"DUDE—I'M THE LUCKIEST MAN ON EARTH!" someone bellowed into Victor's ear causing him to recoil, face contorting into a slightly putout, slightly fierce glower.

Victor Stone was a very annoyed man, a very annoyed man indeed.

Suddenly, another face appeared on his shoulder and Victor nearly jumped out of his skin at the familiar sight of a certain comedian turned physician staring twinkle-eyed at him, stupid grin pasted on his face.

Garfield Logan, or in such a case, "the little grass stain…"

His long time friend flashed him a quick grin and then, letting go of his shoulder, shuffled to the next mirror where he commenced in last minute pruning.

"Sweet, still looking good!" Gar cheered, pumping his fist into the air.

"You little grass stain!" Victor seethed, fists clenched in ire.

Gar laughed, "Dude! I totally resent that!"

"How are Ter and Greg?" he asked.

"Up front with the girls. Greg's been a handful—dude won't go to sleep and that's so not sweet! Kept me and Terra up for like half the night singing lullabies to him." He replied, pulling up his collar. Then, on an impulsive act, blurted, "Reminded me of a certain tin can when a certain insect agreed to be his girlfriend." Gar ran a hand through his brown hair, winking and smirking at the dapper young individual grinning stupidly back. Unbeknownst to the cold looks his comrade was currently directing towards him. Luckily for Gar, for Victor was only seconds from pouncing on the lanky young man, another man appeared.

_Tap, tap, tap_.

"Uh?" Both men swung around towards the balcony where a figure clad in black from head to toe except for the vivid blue bird on his chest stood at the balcony terrace, an urgent look pressed into his face. Victor cocked a brow as she hurried to the window, unlatched it and allowed the man entrance.

The young man grinned at them as he locked the door and pulled the drapes.

"Hey guys," he winked, though it was hard to tell with the domino mask concealing his eyes. "Looking good, BB." He directed towards Garfield who had managed to plaster a lopsided and rather deceptive grin that spread from one pointed ear to the other on his face.

"Dude, Rich, where've you been?" he asked good-naturedly. The man yanked his gloves off viciously and unceremoniously threw them to the ground and then attacked his body suit.

Victor, meanwhile, was not that lenient.

"Man," he hissed, reaching over to flick the man behind his head, "where the hell have you been? If you're not careful, you'll be late for your own wedding!"

He held up his hands as if to protest, skirted around the two men and towards the mirrors. While he did this, he hastily explained the situation.

"Sorry—took down a routine robbery, then I had to go to Gordon's office—as Nightwing. They still don't trust me even though I told them I was in affiliation with both Batman _and_ Robin. Then made some last minute checks on the Dewberry case. I was coming here when something came up—"

Victor shook his head. "Something's always coming up!"

"Yeah, if you're not careful, she'll find out!" Gar chuckled lightly.

The man grinned cockily and said, "That's why you're not going to tell her—or anyone else for that matter. Guys, where's my tux?" he demanded.

Victor jerked a finger towards the large black box lying on the couch. Muttering a hasty word of thanks, the man dove for the box and tore it open, revealing a midnight black tuxedo complete with bowtie and chalk navy blue rose on the lapel.

"Yeah well, just make sure if she does find out, _my_ name is not mentioned." Victor said with a cold glare. He pulled on his white gloves and adjusted his top hat. Then, unable to resist, leaned back to steal another glance at himself. His reflection grinned back and he beamed, quite pleased. "Bea's enjoying this face way too much for your girl to mess it up!" He added as an afterthought.

"Mine too…" Gar muttered, eyes searching the floor uneasily, "as I recall, Nightwing, your wife-to-be as one helluva' of right hook!" He fingered his jaw affectionately.

At this, Nightwing, although without the costume, the name no longer suited, cocked a brow and Victor burst into wild laughter as he clamped a hand on the nervous man's shoulder.

"Oh yeah! She's got a one helluva' right hook alright, cuz I taught her!" He boomed, proudly puffing out his chest.

"Ha ha," Richard Grayson adjusted his tie, "last time I checked, I think I taught her a few moves too…"

"Not the only thing you taught her…" Gar snickered.

Richard blinked and then narrowed his eyes at the reflection of his best men rolling on the floor, clutching their sides in mirth.

"You guys are jerks." He retorted flatly. With a free hand he leveled his hair. It didn't take long; his black mane was quite tame and obedient. A quick run through with a brush and the few stray strands were returned to their rightful places. Turning back to his friends, who were now watching him with strange looks, he grinned and made a move for the door, Gar and Victor right behind him. They slipped out of the room quietly and into a small hallway. Already, they could hear the music playing. The three men stopped at the large oak doors and Richard turned around to face his best friends for the last time as a bachelor.

"Guys?" he asked openly.

Gar flicked his lapel and winked.

"Totally sweet, man!"

"HOT, MAN!" Victor boomed, gently shoving the young man through the doors.

Richard inhaled deeply as he began the long and very lonely walk towards his new life where the love of his life became his future wife. It was when he was several inches from her that Roy, after making several odd signals that involved donuts around his eyes, hand flying across his neck, managed to catch Victor's attention and relay the message. Victor, upon hearing or rather seeing it, visibly paled. Grinning sheepishly, Roy sank back into his seat, squeezed his eyes shut and let out a breath of relief. That little stunt had earned him several ice-cold glowers from half the female population who had thought he was making "calls" at them and several muttered swears and insults could be heard. "Boy blunder owes me!" he thought justly, "He just had to go and pull one more dumbass mistake…" Then, he brightened. "Eh, she'll straighten that out soon enough." He thought with a small smile.

"Dude—your mask, your mask, take it off!" Victor mouthed and then straightened his face with a broad and nervous grin after glancing at the bride.

Richard's eyes widened as he searched his face. At last, his dexterous fingers fell on the strip of cloth and he tore it off and shuffling it from hand to hand as if it were scalding hot potatoe, tried desperately to think of where to put it. Gar, though receiving some odd stares from his perplexed wife, made a odd shimmying gesture that clearly meant: "Throw it! Throw it!" but the young man was too fretful to think straight and didn't get the idea. A bead of sweat trickled down Richard's face and he grimaced, swallowing the lump that had arisen in his throat. He looked around frantically, hands playing with themselves as it seemed everyone—or at least the male population had figured out the problem and was trying to aid their friend who would surely be cooked alive if found out. Mas y Menos were chattering quickly in Spanish and distracting Donna, Diana, Shyira, who were getting suspicious and shooting death glares at Wildebeest who was making odd grunting noises that sounded like a constipated pig. Richard silently cursed himself, Nightwing, Detective Gordon and masks just as Garth burst into a peculiar coughing fit, rushed out of the piqué mumbling something about laryngitis and brushed passed him, snatching the mask away. Richard breathed a sigh of relief as he came to halt near his bride-to-be. The music ceased and the minister, an old friend, beamed at him.

"Good of you to join us, Mr. Grayson."

He grinned cockily. "Better late than never as I always say."

"You've never said that before." She hissed from the corner of her mouth, "And you're late!"

Richard grimaced slightly, shifting as he mumbled a quick apology.

"Don't worry," she whispered as the minister began his monologue, "you, the _robber and Detective Gordon_ will get a piece of my mind later, _Nightwing_."

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A/N: That's it. Sorry for any grammatical errors. If you see any, please tell me. Thanks. 


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